


The Astronauts

by erenyaeger



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erenyaeger/pseuds/erenyaeger
Summary: "I told you I loved you. And then I told you it started when we were kids and I fell for you, hard, and your hair looks like gold and your eyes look like sea water and when I look at you I see the world and I would have been okay if I’d died after the first time I kissed you because when I held your face it felt like I had the entire universe in my hands. You told me you loved me, too. And you told me after we kissed that first time, and you told me once in an alley in Almaty, and you told me once at three in the morning in Saint Petersburg, and you told me whenever I asked you to in bed. But you never told me why.”Yuri looked almost ready to reply, because if all you needed to know was why, Beka, there are plenty of reasons, but then Otabek started again.“And once, at two in the morning in your bed, I told you I needed you like an astronaut in deep space needs oxygen to keep living, and you looked at me for a long time and then you kissed me for longer. But then you rolled over and went to sleep. And I think that’s when I started running out of oxygen.”((Not as dismal as it sounds. It is truly hurt/comfort.))





	The Astronauts

**Author's Note:**

> _This is just a moody otayuri one-shot. I feel like I've been scribbling with a pen and trying to get the ink to come out smoothly, but it just keeps coming in clumps. At least it did something, though._

“I don’t understand what happened between us.”

 

The words hung in the air between them, like the swing-set chains that held them up beside each other, and Otabek exhaled deeply. Quite frankly, he wasn’t quite sure he understood what happened between them, either. He was sure what Yuri really meant was _why did we stop seeing each other_ , but really it was a lot more complicated than that.

 

It’s complicated like the way that the sticky tears on Yuri’s face make the brunette’s stomach do flips. It’s complicated like the way he can’t decide whether he wants to wipe them off and hold the blonde close so he’ll never cry again or to see if Yuri will cry more if he just gets up and walks away, right then. It’s complicated like the way that Yuri just screams when they try to talk on the phone, and yet is still growing his hair out because Beka said he liked pulling at it the last time they—

 

It’s complicated like how Yuri tore Otabek’s heart out of his chest, and yet the brunette still has thoughts like that about the blonde at the most inconvenient moments. It’s complicated like how he’s still wounded from the blonde, but how he still bought a plane ticket to show up at a park in Saint Petersburg just because Yuri _asked_.

 

It’s incredibly, infuriatingly, complicated.

 

“I don’t know if either of us do.” Otabek finally settles on, and Yuri glances at him through the hair that was once his bangs but now hangs in a long side swoop over his face.

 

“Does that mean we can just… I don’t know, start over? Try again?” The blonde tried, and Otabek glanced down at their feet hanging next to each other.

 

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple.” He said, glancing back up to meet Yuri’s eyes again.

 

Yuri pouted, pink lips somehow looking fuller than the last time Otabek saw him.

 

Or maybe memory just has a way of souring things to try and make you miss them less.

 

“If neither of us knows what the fuck even happened then there’s no reason it can’t be.” Yuri quipped, and Otabek sighed heavily.

 

“No, Yura—,” fuck. Feelings, still not totally buried evidently. “There are, actually, a lot of reasons why it can’t be.”

 

“Name _one_.” Yuri huffed, definant, and Otabek’s face softened into a gentle frown.

 

“I don’t think you need to hear something like that.” The brunette tried, and Yuri whined.

 

“Listen, you can’t just—fucking, _do this_ , okay? You can’t tell me we can’t give it another go and then just refuse to tell me _why_ you would even think something that ridiculous. What happened hurt both of us, and if you need to grill me on my end after this then _fine_ but you at least owe it to me to give me a glimpse of what’s going on in your head.” Yuri’s voice cracked a little, and Otabek felt a pang in his chest. “Do I even get to take up space in there, anymore?”

 

“More than you know.” He answered briskly, and Yuri furrowed his brow.

 

“And we’re only now just talking like this?”

 

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

 

“WHY?” Yuri all but screams, finally at the end of his rope. He attracts the attention of an elderly woman walking her dog. She stops for a moment and stares, and then scurries away down the walking path when Yuri flips his head around and scowls dangerously in her direction.

 

“Do you really think you can handle this?” Otabek asks, his voice a cool whisper to counter Yuri’s heat, and Yuri whines again.

 

“I. deserve. to know.” The blonde drawls through gritted teeth, and Otabek glances at the threads on the knees of his jeans while he tries to collect his thoughts.

 

“I… still love you.” Otabek starts after what feels like an eternity, and Yuri cries out in frustration into the trees in front of them.

 

“Then why are you _doing this_?!” He whimpers after, sobs starting to build in his chest as another tear drips down his cheek.

 

“Because until this point there has never been anything between us that tells me you feel the same way.” Otabek huffed, wincing a little because that came off a lot more harsh than he expected it too and _oof_ Yuri looked a little like a kitten that had been kicked after that.

 

“Wh-what do you mean?” Yuri asked, this time a lot softer, and Otabek sort of wished he could take it back.

 

“Listen, that came out wrong. I’m sorry.” He tried to soothe, and Yuri shook his head.  
  
“No, don’t try and pull that on me. This is the first bit of progress we’ve made in months. Tell me more.”

 

“That was awful of me.” Otabek sighed, biting his lip, and Yuri reached over to touch his shoulder.

 

“No, no, it wasn’t. Look. Half of this probably would have been solved a long time ago if you would just tell me when something is bothering you. God, I’ve been trying to get you to do this since we started dating. Please don’t stop now.”

 

Yuri’s voice was almost syrupy, and Otabek couldn’t quite figure out why Yuri would _want_ him to continue on with that train of thought.

 

He sat silent for a moment, and Yuri tried to pick up for him.

 

“Was it the sex?” Yuri asked, sufficiently startling Otabek enough that he blushed. He was glad that poor little old lady was long gone before this line of conversation. “Are you looking for things that are more hardcore or something, because we could definitely try that—”

 

“Yura,” Otabek cut him off, trying to keep his composure. “that- that wasn’t a problem, really—”

 

“—I mean, I know neither of us knew anything much the first time but if you’ve gotten bored it’s really okay to ask to try something—”

 

“ _Yura._ ” Otabek tried a little louder this time. “It wasn’t that. Not… that I wouldn’t take you up on that—”

 

“You wanna take me up on that right now?” Yuri smiled coyly, sliding his foot to catch Otabek’s and pull their swings closer together, and Otabek had to will himself to not give in.

 

“We’re… still not… back yet.” He finally settled on, and Yuri’s face fell.

 

“Then can you just tell me what I managed to do that pissed you off so much that you won’t just _fuck me_ right now and come back?”

 

“I…” Otabek sighed, meeting Yuri’s eyes. He really wasn’t sure he could do this. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You are already hurting me, a lot. If you didn’t want to hurt me, you wouldn’t have left me sleeping alone. Just- fuck Beka, what on earth do you think you can tell me that’s going to fuck me up more than this?”

 

Yuri’s voice caught in his throat, his eyes glassing over all over again, and Beka was pretty sure he’d seen Yuri cry more in the past twenty minutes than he had in the entire time he’d know him.

 

He wondered if maybe that took validity from what he was about to say.

 

“I… know that your parents left you.” He started.

 

“So does everyone else.” Yuri mumbled, and Otabek looked over to him and set a gentle hand on his knee.

 

“That wasn’t your fault.” The brunette continued. “And I know it’s not your fault that it’s hard to be open with people because of that.”

 

“I’m honest with people. I mean, don’t mince my words.” Yuri replied, tilting his head a little.

 

“Honest and open aren’t the same thing, Yura.” Otabek offered gently, and Yuri shrugged.

 

“What’s the difference?”

 

“Like… I’m being honest with you if I tell you I didn’t feel appreciated when we were together. I’m being open with you if I tell you why.”

 

“So why didn’t you feel appreciated?” The blonde tries again, and Otabek breathes in.

 

Then exhales.

 

“Because you aren’t open with me. I told you I loved you. And then I told you it started when we were kids and I fell for you, hard, and your hair looks like gold and your eyes look like sea water and when I look at you I see the world and I would have been okay if I’d died after the first time I kissed you because when I held your face it felt like I had the entire universe in my hands. You told me you loved me, too. And you told me after we kissed that first time, and you told me once in an alley in Almaty, and you told me once at three in the morning in Saint Petersburg, and you told me whenever I asked you to in bed. But you never told me why.”

 

Yuri looked almost ready to reply, because _if all you needed to know was why, Beka, there are plenty of reasons_ , but then Otabek started again.

 

“And once, at two in the morning in your bed, I told you I needed you like an astronaut in deep space needs oxygen to keep living, and you looked at me for a long time and then you kissed me for longer. But then you rolled over and went to sleep. And I think that’s when I started running out of oxygen.”

 

“But that’s when I realized,” Otabek continued, “that you’re not an astronaut like me. You don’t need someone to be your oxygen. You are celestial, and celestial beings don’t need people. And… I think that’s why we can’t give it another go. Because I am selfish, and I’m saying it’s because I want you to be open but really it’s because I want you to need me. And I just couldn’t take knowing you were everything to me and I was just an object in space to you.”

 

His words rang in the air, and then silence hit. Otabek looked up after a while, saw Yuri’s shoulders shaking and silent tears dripping down off of his chin, and looked back down to the ground again.

 

“And I’m sorry.” Otabek murmured, and Yuri half hiccupped and half sobbed finally before managing to choke out a sentence.

 

“D-do you think th-that an astronaut who learns to be an astronaut in a different country isn’t still an astronaut?”

 

“…No. Why?” Otabek asked, wondering where the blonde could be going with this.

 

“S-so if that astronaut is still an astronaut, maybe he was just trained to be an astronaut differently. Maybe his space suit looks a little weird and he doesn’t speak the same language, but he’s not celestial- he’s still human. And maybe he learned that asking mission control for oxygen used to make it harder to get it when he needed it, and so he didn’t ask for oxygen anymore and just looked for it where he could find it. But he still needs it. And he knows his astronaut partner and their rocket has his oxygen, so he keeps both of them close. But if his astronaut partner turns their rocket ship around and leaves him alone in deep space, he’ll still die.”

 

Yuri’s eyes met Otabek’s now, and the blonde swallowed thickly before continuing.

 

“I-I think it sounds better when you use metaphors than when I do it, but— I guess what I’m trying to say is I do need you. A-and needing people used to mean that they disappeared; like with mom and stuff, so that’s why I stopped saying I needed anything. And it worked, for years, and so I guess somehow I thought that if I just didn’t cave and say it out loud everything would be okay and you would stick around. Look how much good that did.” Yuri laughed hollowly, and Otabek finally reached over to brush a tear off of his cheek.

 

“A-and you’re saying you want me to need you, but I think what you’re trying to say is that it’s your oxygen. And the way that you needed me was my oxygen, too. And I guess I’m scared because an empty bed is a lot like deep space and I think I’m suffocating. And I think if you fly away now—,”

 

_-referring both to Otabek’s return ticket and to their rocket ship allegory—_

“—I would fucking die. I really, really need you Beka, and—.”

 

Yuri didn’t get to finish his sentence before Otabek crushed their lips together, maybe a little hastily, and tried to make up for the impact with gentle licks on Yuri’s lips. The blonde moaned a little louder than he would have liked and clung to the brunette’s shoulders, opening his mouth and trying to re-learn how to meet Otabek’s tongue with his own.

 

When they parted for air, Otabek pressed a peck to the corner of Yuri’s mouth before speaking.

 

“I’m sorry. I interrupted you.”

 

Yuri grinned a little, pressing a few kisses over Otabek’s jaw before finally finishing his thought.

 

“I need you, and I think we’re both pretty shitty astronauts if you thought you could make it back to earth without the rocket ship and I somehow couldn’t get back into the rocket before this point.”

 

“Well, good thing we’re both back in now.” Otabek smiled, wrapping an arm around Yuri and kissing his temple.

 

“Beka?” Yuri asked, and the brunette glanced down at him.

 

“Yes?” Otabek asked, brushing a stray hair behind Yuri’s ear.

 

“In the metaphor, is the rocket our relationship? Like are we… are we back now? Are we back together?”

 

The blonde held his breath, because _holy shit_ open was evidently a lot more terrifying than just honest, and Otabek caught his lips again.

 

“Yes.” He breathed against Yuri’s lips, and Yuri threw his arms around the brunette.

 

“I am never letting you go again.” Yuri whispered, paused, and then breathed into Otabek’s ear. “I need you, Beka.”

 

“I need you too, Yura. Always.” Otabek mumbled back into Yuri’s hair, and Yuri buried his face in the crook of Otabek’s neck.

 

“Forever. I’ll need you forever, Beka. Astronauts don’t just magically learn to breathe dark matter, after all.”

 

“And we won’t ever have to.” The brunette murmured, picking Yuri up off of the swing finally and starting back towards the rent-a-car he'd procured after his landing. The stars were starting to show in the sky, but Otabek had the universe in his hands all over again and right now all his universe wanted to do was go to bed together.


End file.
